Monday, April 16, 2007

What would you do for a Red Bull?

The sheer horror that is life in the greatest city in America took a turn for the personal today. After a morning spent reading Baltiless crime logs and The Baltimore Sun (same thing), I went out to my car to discover that the rear passenger window had been smashed. The perpetrator had helpfully left the cinderblock he'd used in the back seat to allay any confusion about what might have happened.

Surprisingly, the car was still there. All the electronics were still intact. It appears our nighttime forager hadn't allowed himself to be distracted by those other temptations- he'd kept his eyes on the prize
and it had paid off. For his troubles, he scored some loose change and- here's the kicker- a can of sugar-free Red Bull.

Double-fisting a treasure trove like that, is it any wonder he hung up his cinder block and quit for the night?

Tuesday, April 3, 2007


It's Saturday night, about 20 minutes before closing time, and we're standing in the check-out line at the grocery store. The clerk makes it clear that our presence is the ONLY thing preventing her from clocking out, and she's deeply resentful as a result.

She starts to scan the final item of the man in line in front of us- a bunch of leeks. "What's this?" she demands. He just shrugs. He had no idea what he was buying.

Exasperated,she complains "This happened earlier too, and just little ol' me, no one here to help." Seeing the potential for major Charm City-style inconvenience and naively hoping to avert it, I helpfully offer "I think they're called 'leeks'".

"Leafs?" (sic) she snaps, and starts flipping through a price list. "I don't see no leafs. What section would they be under?".
"You could check under 'onions'. Also, I think it's spelled L-E-E-K-S."
She continues flipping through the booklet. "A million damn onions here, and no leafs."

I give up. It's clear trying to help will get me nowhere.. The clerk moves on to a picture book of common fruits. This goes on for awhile as she gets increasingly frustrated. Something finally catches her eye.

"Green leaf lettuce. That's the only leafs I see so that's what I'm ringing it up as." The buyer, who hasn't said a word this whole time, shrugs again and the transaction is complete.

Everytime I go to grocery store in Baltiless, a little part of me dies.